


Red Sky At Morning

by italiandancer1275



Series: Supernatural [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Formal Attire, Ghosts, Massachusetts, POV Female Character, Reader-Insert, Sea Pines - Freeform, Winchesters in suits, gala - Freeform, sassiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-07-24 14:05:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16176614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/italiandancer1275/pseuds/italiandancer1275
Summary: When you go a bit stir crazy, Bobby sends you to lend the Winchester brothers some brains. What happens when Bela gets thrown in to the mix and Team Free Will has to go upper class?Y/N= Your nameY/N/N= Your nickname





	1. Stir Crazy

_Dammit!_ You brought your index finger to your mouth for what seemed like the hundredth time. Stupid faulty wires. Sam and Dean had left a few days after your “experience” of viewing _The Sixth Sense_ , and side note: yes, even you did not see the twist coming, though you didn’t care to admit it. Regardless, you’d decided to use your new found free time to check a few things off of Bobby’s “to do at some point” list. Everyone knew that unless something was essential, it most likely was never going to get fixed. At the moment, you were having an argument with the old dishwasher…and losing. You’d already lost feeling in about three fingers and were going on a fourth. You finally found the two wires that needed to cross and when it gave you a shock for the hundred and first time, you yelled and threw your wrench at it. Not the most mature way to handle the situation but you and your fingers were fried (literally). Screw it, you’d just buy a new one online later.

“Let me know next time you decide to do some home improvement. I’ll get my hard hat.” You crawled out of the small cove wiping the sweat from your forehead with a bandana. Falling on your ass with your back against a cabinet, you had no other response than to simply glare. “What’s with the Tim Allen impersonation? You thinking about a new career path?” You stood up and retrieved a glass from the wooden cupboard. “I don’t know Bobby, just caught the bug I guess. You weren’t exactly planning on upgrades any time soon and without them face it, this place is gonna fall apart.” He grumbled to himself. “Don’t need no damn upgrades.” You rolled your eyes and turned to get some water from the sink…only to have your glass filled with a brown sludge. Without blinking you turned to meet Bobby’s stone expression. “Bobby…call a friggin’ plumber.” And before the peanut gallery gets any ideas no, you hadn’t even messed with the water pipes yet. “Yea, yea..” he said to himself once more. With that established, you turned and made your way to the study, where there was a jammed desk drawer that needed attending to. You grabbed a screwdriver from the tool kit and turned around only to have the item ripped from your grasp. “Seriously Y/N/N, don’t you have a case or something? You’re driving me nuts.” You put your hands up in confusion.

“I mean I caught a few nibbles, but nothing exciting. I set a few local hunters on the scent so they pretty much have it covered.”

“Well have you checked with Sam and Dean? Excitement seems to follow those boys like fleas on dogs…which I still don’t approve of just for the record.”

“Yes Bobby, you’ve made your stance on me working with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum very clear. But no, I hear they’re in Massachusetts at the moment and Boston accents annoy the crap outa me.”

“Why don’t you just go and check on them, see if they need a brain at the moment. Couldn’t hurt. Besides, I’m sure the accents are less dangerous than the dishwasher anyway.”

“Hilarious, but I guess you have a point. I’ll pack up and head out first thing tomorrow.”

“The house thanks you.” You rolled your eyes at Bobby. “I think you mistranslated, pretty sure it’s screaming for help.”

“Which you will be too in a few seconds if you don’t quit bein’ a smartass.” You chuckled and made your way upstairs to pack.

You figured it would be relatively cold this time of year, so you packed on the heavier side. Since you had zero idea about what the case was regarding, you figured you’d just pack the essential weapons, i.e. your desert eagle, your knife, and a flask of holy water. It was never a bad idea considering demons had a hand in literally everything. Still, you zipped up the duffel and brought it downstairs to wait by the door for departure tomorrow. Now it was time to rest up.


	2. Hour One

You arrived in Sea Pines, Massachusetts about a day after you left Sioux Falls. If the tracker on Sam’s cell was right, they should be just down the street. You parked your jeep and just leaned against it, as it seemed the boys were heading in your general direction anyway. You sent Bobby a quick text letting him know you had arrived just as you spotted the boys. They must have been finishing up a conversation as you caught the tail end of Dean’s, “crap.” This was your cue to get their attention. “Hey strangers.” Two pairs of eyes looked to their left at the familiar face in front of them. Sam answered first. “Y/N/N! What are you doing here? Bobby already think we need backup?”

“Well, that’s what he said, but honestly, I think he knew I was going a bit stir crazy. It’s cool that I’m here, right?” Sam quickly nodded but Dean took advantage of the question, smirking as the following statement left his mouth. “Absolutely, though I gotta warn you, there’s an entrance fee.”

“Damn, left my wallet back home.” Sam chuckled and nodded for you to walk with them. “C’mon you two.” You locked your car and joined the brothers, walking up to an empty parking space. The boys looked around, Dean vocalizing his uncertainty, “This is where we parked the car, right?”

“I thought so.”

“Where’s my car?” You could tell this was leading to a meltdown, so you added in a plausible explanation. “Did you feed the meter?” His car may have been towed, but that would be a hell of a lot better than stolen. He responded annoyed, “Yes, I fed the meter! Guys, where’s my car? Somebody stole my car!” And here comes the before mentioned meltdown you were trying to avoid. Sam apparently saw it as well as he intervened, “Hey, hey, hey. Calm down. Dean.” Apparently those were the last words that Dean wanted to hear as his rebuttal was anything but calm. “I am calmed down! Somebody stole my ca—“ _Crap._ Mayday, Dean was going down. His breath quickened and he bent forward trying to (unsuccessfully) catch it. This was turning into a full-fledged panic attack. You froze, not knowing how to help. Thank goodness Sam was well versed in these situations as he jumped into action immediately, lifting Dean upright with a reassuring hand on his back.

“The ’67 Impala? Was that yours?” You didn’t even have to turn around to place a face to that accent. Bela. And to be quite honest, you were a bit excited to see her again. Yes, your last encounter wasn’t necessarily a positive one, but she intrigued you. There was so much to her profile that you were dying to figure out. Game on.

Sam greeted her for the three of you. “Bela.”

“I’m sorry. I had that car towed.” Well, again, better than stolen. Though Dean didn’t see it that way. “You what?!”

“Well, it was in a tow-away zone.”

“No, it wasn’t!”

“It was when I finished with it.”

“What the hell are you even doing here?”

“A little yachting.” Sam’s face lit up and he interjected with his epiphany. “You’re Alex.” You assumed that the name probably had something to do with the current case, however, now wasn’t the best time to ask for specifics. “You’re working with that old lady.” Bela nodded slightly. “Gert’s a dear old friend.” Dean snapped back at her, “Yea right. What’s your angle?”

“There’s no angle. There’s a lot of lovely old women like Gert up and down the eastern seaboard. I sell them charms, perform séances so they can commune with their dead cats.” Not a bad idea…though Dean seemed to disagree. “And let me guess, it’s all a con. None of it’s real.”

“The comfort I provide them is very real.” Interesting. She had a counter point at the ready, suggesting that she knew what she was doing was immoral, but had convinced herself otherwise. Good to know there was a conscience somewhere in there. Sam, however, seemed to miss that completely. “How do you sleep at night?”

“On silk sheets, rolling naked in money. Really, Sam, I’d expect the attitude from him. But you?” A distraction (the naked comment) and a deflection (insulting Sam) all in one breath. So she has a conscience, but doesn’t want anyone to know. Sam’s response knocked you back into the moment. “You _shot_ me.” Right, you forgot about that. Funny how once something happens enough times, it becomes commonplace, even getting shot. “I barely grazed you.” The silence that followed was an indication that Bela’s point was valid. “Cute. But a bit of a drama queen, yeah?” You disagreed mentally. Sam was just a stage five worrier. Regardless, Dean decided that the banter had played itself out and it was time to get serious. “You do know what’s going on around here. This ghost-ship thing, it is real.”

“I’m aware. Thanks for telling Gert the case wasn’t solved, by the way.”

“It isn’t.”

“ _She_ didn’t know that. Now the old bag’s stopped payment and she’s demanding some real answers. Look…just stay out of my way before you cause any more trouble. And I’d get to that car if I were you…before they find the arsenal in the trunk. Ciao.” The shiny brown trench coat turned it’s back to you and strolled down the street. Dean thought aloud, “Can I shoot her?” to which Sam responded with, “Not in public.” You smirked and nudged Sam with your elbow. “C’mon, I’ll drive you guys to the impound and you can fill me in on the case.” Dean’s eyes lit up seeing your Jeep again, “Only if you promise that the raptors won’t get us.” Right. Hour one of working with the Winchesters.


	3. Lines Crossed

You dropped the boys off with a promise of sending a shoe right to Dean’s throat if he made one more T-rex joke about your Jeep. On the other hand, you were fully filled in on the case details and ready to get to work. The boys had given you an address to meet them at and instructed you to throw on some fed threads before they picked you up to do some interviewing for a new development. Apparently there was another victim and there was an ample opportunity to speak with his brother.

You arrived at the scene to see none other than Bela herself interviewing your target. Dean immediately jumped into action, making full use of his fake authority and the fact that Bela was posing as press. “Ma’am, I think this man’s been through quite enough. You should go.”

“But, I just have a few more questions.” Sam stepped in. “No, you don’t.” She stared the three of you down trying to intimidate her way into staying. Realizing she wasn’t going to win, she turned to the man saying her goodbye, “Thank you for your time.” Her American accent was rehearsed, but if you were looking for it, it really wasn’t fooling anyone. She gave you all one last glare before leaving, though you highly doubted that she was going to go quietly, especially since Dean decided to add in his two cents, “Sorry you had to deal with that. They’re like roaches.” Sam took the moment to redirect the conversation to be actually relevant. “So, we heard you say your brother saw a ship.”

“Yea, that’s right.”

“Did he tell you what it looked like?”

“It was, uh…like the old Yankee Clippers. A smuggling vessel. The rakish topsail, a barkentine rigging. Angel figured on the bow—“ It was your turn to interrupt as something was catching your suspicions. “That’s a lot of detail for a ship your brother saw.”

“My brother and I were night diving. I saw the ship, too” The three of you shared a look before a hint of a British accent caught your attention and your gaze was redirected to Bela chatting with some officers and pointing in your general direction. Right, time to wrap it up. “All right. Well, we’ll be in touch.” Dean added in a last, “Thank you,” as the three of you promptly left the scene. You made your way back to the car as Sam and Dean began to load and prepare weapons. You opted out and leaned against the impala simply to observe, as your guns had already been loaded. Only a few minutes passed before the sound of heels clicking your way sent your gaze up.

“I see you got your car back.” The boys refused to look up, Dean clicking his shotgun into gear before administering a warning, “You really want to come near me when I got a loaded gun in my hands?”

“Now, now. Mind your blood pressure. Why are you even still here? You have enough to I.D. the boat?” Sam answered her. “That guy back there saw the ship.”

“Yeah? And?”

“And he’s going to die, so we have to save him.” A look of condescension washed all over Bela’s face. She was clearly profiling the boys the same as you were to her. This was partly the reason you only said what you needed to; no one else belonged in your head but you. “How sweet.” Dean spoke up, “You think this is funny?”

“He’s cannon fodder. He can’t be saved in time, and you know it.” The boys took a second to show the absurdness of the things Bela was saying. You remained neutral, as none of what she said had come as a surprise and you were set on giving her nothing.

Dean responded, “Yeah, well, see, we have soul, so we’re gonna try.”

“Well, I’m actually gonna find the ship and put an end to this. But you have fun.” You glanced at Dean to see that he was fed up with Bela’s whole ‘I don’t give a crap attitude.’ And he was going to be vocal about it, “Hey, Bela, how’d you get like this, huh? What, did daddy not give you enough hugs or something?” You saw a clear change in her face, something that went beyond just normal ‘daddy issues’. There was your bull’s-eye. Now, the issue was to figure out the specifics, although Bela’s next statement may have just ruined your chances of ever seeing her again. “I don’t know. Your daddy give you enough?” And thus the lines had been crossed. Plus, she decided to add insult to injury by adding, “Don’t you dare look down your nose at me. You’re no better than I am.”

“We help people.” She scoffed, “Come on. You do this out of vengeance and obsession. You’re a stone’s throw from being a serial killer. Whereas I, on the other hand, I get paid to do a job and I do it. So, you tell me – Which is healthier?” Well, on that note, it seemed that the damage had been done and it fell to you to move this along before someone ended up full of lead. “Bela, why don’t you just leave? We’ve got work to do.”

“Yeah. You’re 0 for 2. Bang up job so far.” You didn’t even grace that with a response as it’s only intent was to be hurtful, and you had no time to be petty. You simply stared unphased, and once Bela realized she wasn’t successful in picking another fight, she left with a grimace. _Bitch._


	4. We're Trying To Help You, Moron

You had stopped back at the motel to change into some street clothes and fill some canteens with caffeine. It was stake out night and most likely going to be a long one. You sat in the back of the impala as the three of you watched Peter Warren move from room to room. It had been a couple hours before Dean interrupted the silence. “Anything good?” referring to the research that currently occupied Sam. “No. Not really. I mean, both brothers are Duke University grads. No criminal record. I mean, a few speeding tickets. They inherited their father’s real estate fortune six years ago.”

“How much?”

“$112 Million.” Dean let out a whistle. “Nice life.”

“Yeah. I mean, nice, clean, aboveboard. So, why did they see the ship? Why Sheila, too? What do they all have in common?”

“Maybe nothing.” You’d racked your brain and categorized the data, coming up with no plausible commonalities. Though Sam felt differently. “No. There’s always something.”

“Hey, you!” All three of you snapped your heads in the direction of the angry Peter Warren approaching the car. Dean turned to the two of you, “I think we’ve been made.” You narrowed your eyes; clearly you’d been made, there was no reason to say it. The three of you exited the car. “What are you guys doing?! You watching me?!” Sam took control of the situation immediately. “Sir, calm down. Please.”

“You guys aren’t cops! Not dressed like that. Not – not in that crappy car.” Dean immediately answered, “Whoa, hey. No need to get nasty.” It was your turn to explain, as the other two had missed the mark. “Look, we are cops, okay? We’re undercover. We’re here because we think you’re in danger.” It was always a good idea to touch on self-preservation. “From who?!”

“If you just settle down, we’ll talk about it.”

“Look, you guys just stay away from me!” Well, that wasn’t the direction you thought the conversation was going to go. Peter turned and ran for his car before Sam stepped in, “Wait!” His words went unnoticed, as Warren got into his car anyway. It was Dean’s turn to yell, “Hey, you moron! We’re trying to help you!” Peter started to drive away, but abruptly stopped before the gate, his engine sputtering. Sam said what you all were thinking, “That can’t be good.”

“Nope.”

“Get the salt gun.” You looked at Sam, “Give me a boost.” He crossed his fingers and lowered his arms as you stepped into his hands, using them as a springboard. Landing over the fence, you took off in a sprint and ran to the driver’s side of the car. When you looked, there was a strange man sitting in the passenger seat, locking the doors as you arrived. You quickly whipped out your pick as the shaggy ghost reached out to touch Peter’s face. You noticed it was an awkward angle, as the ghost had to use his left hand, his right clearly missing. Peter began to hemorrhage water from his mouth as Sam arrived next to the passenger door. Peter’s head slumped against the steering wheel and the ghost was fighting your pick. Dean ran around the corner with his sawed-off screaming, “Down!” Both you and Sam instinctually ducked as Dean shot through the window, the ghost disappearing immediately after. Your pick easily slid into the lock, maneuvering it open. You shoved Peter Warren back against his seat to check his pulse, exhaling and shaking your head at the boys when you found none. Sam returned your look with a dejected one and Dean struck the car in his frustration. At the moment, you could relate…

The ride home was no better. The silence that filled the air was dismal until Dean broke it. “You want to say it or should I?” Sam turned and answered, “What?”

“You can’t save everybody.”

“Yea, right. So-so, what? You feel better now or what?”

“No. Not really.”

“Me neither.” In theory, you could relate, but truth be told you really didn’t feel anything. At the time of death, of course, it was a loss. However, reviewing the event after, there was really nothing else you could’ve done other than what occurred. So there was zero efficiency in guilt, simple as that.

Dean continued, “You got to under-“ Sam interrupted, “It’s just lately I feel like I can’t save anybody.” Dean glanced in the rearview and you met his gaze. What were you supposed to say to that? Decidedly nothing, as the rest of the car ride was silent.


	5. Plan. Set. Action.

Not much else was said that entire night. Dean decided on a foreclosure to crash at, and after unpacking quickly, you all just crashed. The only furniture in the room consisted of a fancy old couch and a chair. Sam offered you the couch, but after his statement in the car, you really felt he needed comfort more at the moment, so you resigned yourself to the floor while Dean took the chair—or rather started the night in the chair, as halfway through fidgeting, he gave up and took the floor a couple feet from you.

The next morning found Sam researching while Dean was on his phone doing god knows what. You were busy on the floor, mapping out the victims and the timelines when there was a knock on the door. Dean stood and the three of you eyed each other, readying your weapons. Dean slowly opened the peephole, shutting and locking it once he saw who was there. The look on his face was enough evidence to conclude that it was clearly Bela. You and Sam retired your weapons as Dean twisted the knob open. It hadn’t even been ten seconds before she felt the need to insert an opinion. “Dear god…are you actually squatting? Charming. So, how did things go last night with Peter?” Sam glared, yet somehow looked dejected at the same time. “That well, huh?” She said. Dean turned to her, “If you say ‘I told you so’, I swear to god, I’ll start swinging.” He crossed in front of her to make his way to the bathroom to wash off the recently destroyed salt line that encased the building. Turning back to hear Bela’s response, your attention was caught by Dean’s voice echoing from the other room. “Y/N/N, why in the hell is there a bra staring me in the face?” _Right…_ You had completely forgotten that you had left Sioux Falls wearing your good bra. You normally weren’t into material things, but that particular undergarment always made you smile, as it brought the memory of the first time that Bobby had to go “female shopping” after he took you in. Clearly not wanting to be there, he gave you his credit card and you picked the nicest one you could find. You smiled again as you reminisced. “That bra is more expensive than your watch. You really think I’m gonna shove it in a duffle bag? Just don’t touch it!” You could practically feel the smirk on Dean’s face before Bela coughed, once again regaining your attention. “Look, I think that the four of us should have a heart-to-heart.” Sam responded as Dean exited the restroom. “That’s assuming you have a heart.”

“Sam, please. I’m sorry about what I said before, okay? I come bearing gifts.” It was Dean’s turn to answer. “Such as?”

“I’ve I.D.’d the ship.” Dean inhaled inconvenienced, but nodded nonetheless. Bela unzipped the folder she had carried in and placed several photos on the table. “It’s the _Espírito Santo_ , a merchant sailing vessel. Quite a colorful history.” You thumbed through the pictures, confirming that they indeed matched Peter’s description. Bela continued, “In 1859, a sailor was accused of treason. He was tried aboard ship in a kangaroo court and hanged. He was 37.” Sam interrupted, “Which would explain the 37-year cycle.”

“Aren’t you a sharp tack? There’s a photo of him somewhere…here.” She handed the photo to you, Dean looking over your shoulder. “Isn’t that the customer we saw last night?”

“You saw him?”

“Yea, that’s him. Except he was missing a hand.”

“His right hand.” Sam looked at Bela. “How’d you know?”

“The sailor’s body was cremated, but not before they cut off his hand to make a hand of glory.” Dean perked up. “A hand of glory? I think I got one of those at the end of my Thai massage last week.” Bela met your gaze and rolled her eyes, trying to bond over your maturity. Sam on the other hand, took the other path and proceeded to educate Dean on the actual meaning of the object. “Dean, the right hand of a hanged man is a serious occult object. It’s very powerful.” Bela answered, “So they say.” Dean voiced the conclusion you had all reached, “And officially counts as remains.” Sam interjected, “But still, none of this explains why the ghost is choosing these victims.” To which Bela responded, “I’ll tell you why. Who cares? Find the hand, burn it, and stop the bloody thing.” That raised your suspicions. Bela was just a bit too quick to dismiss Sam’s question. You made a mental note.

Dean seemed to share your suspicious nature for a different reason. “I don’t get it. Why are you telling us all this?”

“Because I know exactly where the hand is.”

“Where?”

“At the Sea Pines Museum. It’s a macabre bit of maritime history. But I need help.” Sam responded, ”What kind of help?” Bela answered with simply a smile, and all three of you felt uneasy…

 

Bela was a lot of things, but you really had to give it to her, the girl had style. You stood in front of a mirror, adjusting the plunging neckline of your floor-length black cocktail dress she had provided. With your chestnut hair curled and your honey-colored eyes lined, you exited the bathroom to meet Bela in the foyer. She looked you up and down and actually gave a look of approval before sighing and yelling up to Dean. “What is taking so long? Sam’s already halfway there. With his date.” With that last statement she looked to you and the two of you almost shared a chuckle. _Almost._ Dean broke your eye contact as he responded from the top of the staircase. “I’m so not okay with this.”

“What are you, a woman? Come down, already.”

You saw the sleek black dress shoes first as they descended the stairs. Slowly your gaze rose as you took in Dean Winchester in a suit. This wasn’t like his fed suits that always sort of fell awkwardly due to incorrect sizing and cheap fabric. This was well tailored and even you had to make a conscious effort not to gawk at him. Bela wasn’t as subtle. He stood in front of the two of you and became self-conscious at all the stares. “All right. Get it out. I look ridiculous.” Bela decided to reassure him, “Not exactly the word I’d use.”

“What?”

“You know, when this is over, we should really have angry sex.” Feeling bold, you interjected as well, “I’d get in on that.” Dean whipped his head in your direction, as this was clearly the first time you’d reciprocated in the sexual comment department. It was almost amusing to see his dilemma of how to respond play out mentally. He decided to go with the snarky response, most likely because Bela was involved, “Don’t objectify me. Let’s go.” He crossed in front of Bela and extended his arm to you. _Damn, pretty smooth Winchester._ You took it and he lead you out the door, a smile showcasing brightly all over his face. Bela followed behind.


	6. Heist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to let me know what you guys think so far! I love any and all feedback! :)

You arrived at the venue and the three of you made your way to the entrance, Dean walking with the confidence of having a woman on each arm. Bela handed in her invitation and you immediately split off, beginning to take inventory of your surroundings. You clocked guards at every entrance and exit, their stance indicative of professionals, probably state troopers moonlighting. You also didn’t see any sign of the hand. You did, however, catch sight of Sam being eye-banged by an old woman you assumed was Gert. He met your gaze and indicated to meet Dean and Bela by the bar. Arriving consecutively, you whispered to Sam, “I want the details in the morning.” He gave you a quick bitch face before turning back to Dean. “Exactly how long do you expect me to entertain my date?” Bela responded, “As long as it takes.” Looking back to Sam, you spoke up, “Look, there’s security all over this place, all right?” Dean cut you off, “This is an uncrashable party without Gert’s invitation, so…”

“We can crash anything Dean.”

“Yeah, I know, but this is easier and it’s a lot more entertaining.”

“You know there are limits to what I’ll do, right?”

“Aw, he’s playing hard-to-get. That’s cute.”

“Excuse me gentlemen…” You turned to see the source of the intruder who had placed his hand on the small of your back and interrupted your conversation. He wasn’t bad looking. “Would you mind terribly if I stole this beautiful lady and asked her to accompany me to the dance floor.” You smiled shyly and responded with a quick, “Sure.” You gave the boys a quick wink before running off with the mysterious stranger.

The man led you to the outskirts of the dance floor, as Sam and his “date” had left to take center. It was tough not to laugh, as every time you turned and met Sam’s gaze, you could see the agony in his eyes. Not to mention Gert wasn’t being very lady like.

“I see my great aunt’s antics amuse you.” You turned back to your dance partner. “She’s got quite the appetite for her age. It’s just surprising is all.”

“You should see when her friends come into town and they all go dancing. I’m Ian by the way. And you are?”

“Now that is something you don’t see everyday. And Y/N. I’m one of the training investigators involved with your cousin’s case.” Ian nodded and then redirected his attention behind you. Before you had a chance to see what he was looking at, you felt yet another hand on the small of your back as Dean’s voice rang in your ear. “Hi there, mind if I cut in?”

“By all means.” Dean took over Ian’s grip and you slowly swayed to the music, as he wasn’t much of a dancer. “So let’s discuss your proposition from earlier. Are we talking experience or—“

“I know my way around a ménage à trois”

“How am I just learning about this? Tell me more.”

“Nah, it’s more fun when you don’t know. So what’s the update with the _actual_ case?”

“You ruin everything. Anyway it’s in room 235. Locked glass case wired for alarm.” You spotted two guards standing post right in front of that particular door. “Hm. Get me a distraction and I’ll have it out in five.”

“You got it.” You watched Dean walk away and come back with Bela in tow. You saw an abandoned purse on the table and snagged it quickly. Dean and Bela began to converse near the door when Bela collapsed, the entire room redirecting their attention. The two guards ran to her aid and that was your signal to slip away and take out your pick. You slid into the room moments later and spotted the artifact. You quickly hacked into the padlock, cutting the precise wire needed to deactivate the alarm. You grabbed a napkin from the nearby table and carefully wrapped the hand inside, tucking the entire thing into the stolen clutch. You listened by the door and when you were sure the guards were still distracted, you slipped out just as silently as before, closing the door behind you. You made eye contact with Dean and nodded. He must’ve given Bela the signal as she began to “wake up” and the crowd dispersed. You noticed one guard eyeing you, most likely suspicious that he didn’t see you at the commotion. Other than that, he had nothing to go on, but still, it would be difficult slipping the hand to Dean. Bela also noticed and gave you a wink as she left for the ladies room. You got the hint and closed the distance between you and Dean, noticing that his eyes weren’t exactly at an appropriate height. Deciding to have a bit of fun on the job, you walked up to him and lightly pushed him against the nearby wall, your bodies touching. The suspicious guard looked away, but Dean was utterly surprised. "Wait, here? Now?" You reached up to tuck your hand into his jacket, depositing the artifact into his pocket. He cleared his throat and you brought your lips up to his ear…

“Your fly is down.” You walked away smirking as he flustered himself, trying to zip up. _C’mon, that one was just too easy._ As you walked away, you placed the stolen purse back on the table. Ian once again caught sight of you and offered you some champagne. Taking a sip, he re-engaged you in some light conversation. “So how is everything going with my cousin’s case?”

“We’re working towards something.”

“Anything you can spill? You know everyone is talking about the Warren Brothers’ deaths. Do you think there was a connection?”

“The evidence points in that direction, yes.”

“I think they had it coming, you know, in a biblical sort of way.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m sure you heard about their father.”

“Actually no. Mind enlightening me on the subject?”

“Well people say that the old man didn’t die of natural causes. Rumor is the boys did it. Nothing was ever proved, but people still whisper.”

“And how exactly do you think that transmits to Sheila.”

“Well, you didn’t hear it from me, but there was an incident involving her brother, Brian. She was a teenager at the time, but ultimately her car flipped with him inside. He didn’t make it.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It wasn’t her fault, but it still stings.” At this time, the song ended and you caught wind of the gang regrouping. “Listen, thanks for the dance. I really should be going.”  
“Catch who did this Y/N.” You simply nodded as you made your way back to the boys, Gert, and Bela. “Having a nice time?” Gert looked to you and Bela. “He’s delightful.” She kissed Bela on the cheek and not-so-quietly whispered, “He wants me.” You and Dean both looked to Sam, who looked plain uncomfortable. Bela linked her arm with the woman and turned to you all. “I’m going to get Gert into a cold shower.” Sam was the one who responded. “Great idea.”

“See you at the cemetery.” And with that Bela left. You adjusted your own dress, ready to leave when Dean turned to Sam. “You stink like sex.” You chuckled to yourself and the three of you abruptly left the event.

Sam was the last to shut his door as the three of you encased yourselves in the warmth of the Impala. Both men loosened their bow ties and you unzipped the back of your dress. Breathing was always nice. Sam broke the silence. “You got it, right? Tell me I didn’t get groped all night by Mrs. Havisham for nothing.”

“I got it. Mrs. Who?”

“Never mind. Just let me see it.” Dean dug into his coat pocket and pulled out the napkin. Unwrapping it, his face froze. That worried you, as well as Sam. “What?” He lifted a small boat in a bottle figurine and your heart sunk. Dean spoke. “I’m gonna kill her.”


	7. The Bull's-Eye

You sat on the table twiddling your thumbs. That hand was probably already across the world by now. Everyone in the room was on edge and frustrated, but it was Dean who voiced it. “You know what? You’re right. I’m not gonna kill her. I think slow torture’s the way to go.” That had been your suggestion. But Sam apparently wasn’t having it. “Dean, look, you got to relax.”

“Relax?! Oh, yea. Yeah, I’ll relax. I can’t _believe_ she got another one over on us!” You looked up from your thumbs and in the calmest tone simply said the word, “You.” Dean turned around to meet your stare. “What?”

“She got one over on you, not us. The hand was perfectly in tact when I slipped it in your coat.”

“Thank you, Y/N! It’s very helpful!” You shrugged. It wasn’t you who screwed things up and you didn’t want to be lopped in with that group. Rapid knocking on the door followed by Bela’s frantic voice interrupted you. “Hello? Could you open up?” The door swung open and the boys blocked the entrance as you stood behind them. “Just let me explain.” They separated and created an opening for her to enter. She crossed behind you and took a seat. Sam sat opposite her and Dean stood behind her in an aggressive manner. “I sold it. I had a buyer lined up as soon as I knew it existed.” Dean crossed behind her and mimed putting a bullet in her head. You ignored it and reverted your eyes back to Bela, Sam speaking up. “So, the whole reason for us going to the charity ball was…?”

“I needed a cover. You were convenient.”

“Look you sold it to a buyer. Just go buy it back.”

“It’s halfway across the ocean. I can’t get it back in time.” …You figured as much. Dean interrupted. “In time for what?” You immediately put two and two together, but Sam needed a bit more help. “What’s wrong with you Bela, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” You answered for her. “She saw the ship.” Bela made eye contact with you. It was a dose of anger as well as a snippet of impressed. Dean finally connected the pieces. “Wow, you know, I-I knew you were an immoral, thieving, con-artist bitch, but just when I thought my opinion of you couldn’t get any lower…”

“What are you talking about?”

Sam interjected, “We figured out the spirit’s motive.” He searched through several photos before holding a particular one up. “This is the captain of our ship. The one who hung our ghost boy.”

“So?” It was your turn to enlighten her. “So, they were brothers.” Sam dropped the picture in front of her, adding his comment in. “Very Cain and Abel.” You took over once more. “So now the spirit, he’s going after a very specific kind of target—people who’ve spilled their own family’s blood.” And that folks, was your bulls-eye. Bela’s big secret that defined who she was. Sam spoke again. “See, first, there was Sheila, who killed her brother in a car accident. And the Warren brothers, who murdered their father for the inheritance. And now you.” Bela was shaking at this point. “My god.” Dean took advantage of her vulnerable state. “So, who was it, Bela? Hmm? Who’d you kill? Was it daddy? Your little sis, maybe?” She froze up. “It’s none of your business.”

“No. Right. Well, have a nice life—you know, whatever’s left of it. Guys, let’s go” He slapped her on the back and grabbed his coat. She stood. “You can’t just leave me here.”

“Watch us.” You stood as well, completely ready to bolt when she turned to you. “Please? I need your help.” You looked to Dean with him answering, “Our help? Well, now, how could a couple of serial killers possibly help you?”

“Okay, that was a bit harsh, I admit it. But it doesn’t warrant a death sentence.” You responded calmly, “That’s not why you’re gonna die.” Sam looked to you before questioning Bela. “What did you do, Bela?”

“You wouldn’t understand. No one did.” There was a silence between all of you. You had finally solved the mystery and every piece about Bela fell into its place. The way she froze when Dean brought up her father was highly indicative that he was in fact the family member that Bela had offed. Her persistence that no one understood led you to believe it was a case of abuse. Your puzzle was complete. Bela looked away. “Never mind. I’ll just do what I’ve always done. I’ll deal with it myself.” Dean spoke, “You do realize that you just sold the only thing that could save your life.”

“I’m aware.” You suddenly got an idea. “Maybe not the only thing…”


	8. Showdown

The full moon was high and bright above the graveyard. You had relayed your plan to the group and Sam was readying the ingredients. You drew the sigil and placed the candles on the altar strategically. Dean and Bela stood by, both a bit anxious. Bela voiced her concerns. “Do you really think this is gonna work?” Dean responded. “Almost definitely not.” A crash of thunder sounded as you lit the last candle and Sam placed the herb atop the coffin holding the altar. The wind began to pick up and the rain started. Sam zipped his coat and Dean readied his weapon. You took that as the cue, “Sam, time to start reading.” Sam opened his father’s journal and flipped through the pages. Finding the one he was searching for, he began to repeat the Latin spell. Dean and Bela looked around for any sign of danger. You eyed Sam when the _whoosh_ of the candles blowing out caught your attention. Sam paused, but then continued the chant louder, as the storm was beginning to pick up. The wind actually made you lose your balance and the altar began to blow away. You placed your hands on each side, as the entirety of the plan could fall apart. Dean grabbed Bela and shouted, “Stay close!” The storm was really howling now and you were struggling to keep everything in place. You looked up when Bela shouted, “Behind you!” to Dean. The ghost from Peter’s car had appeared. Dean turned and before he could defend himself, the ghost threw him against a nearby gravestone, a shot firing from his gun. Bela was left defenseless, as your hands were currently full. “Sam, hurry it up!” He glanced at you and hurried his Latin. The ghost brought his hand to Bela’s face and she began to spout water. Dean had woken by this point and ran to Bela’s aid. She was choking hard as Sam yelled the last word of the spell. Almost immediately, the sky cleared and the wind stopped. You looked up to see the, now two, ghosts facing one another, you and the altar between them. “You…hanged me!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Your own brother!”

“I’m so sorry.” The shaggy ghost lunged at his brother and the two supernatural beings collided above you. You ducked your head as you heard screams but abruptly stiffened as you were doused with the freezing resulting water. You slowly looked up, shivering, as you saw that Bela was breathing normally. Your plan had worked. Now to warm up before the pneumonia set in.

Bela split off after the show down and you and the boys had returned to the house to shower and pack up. Once your toes were defrosted, you actually found yourself in good spirits. You had solved a case in an unconventional way without a scratch on you. You were depositing a pair of jeans into your duffel when a knock on the door caught everyone’s attention. Without waiting for a response, Bela walked in. “You lot should learn to lock your doors. Anyone could just barge in.” Sam gave an award winning bitch face as he replied, “Anyone just did. Did you come to say goodbye or thank you?”

“I’ve come to settle affairs. Giving the spirit what he really wanted—his own brother. Very clever, Y/N. So here. It’s $10,000. That should cover it.” You stared at the money Bela had just tossed to you before looking back to her. “I don’t like being in anyone’s debt. Now I’ve got a long drive, can I use your washroom?” Sam nodded and pointed to the hallway. The door shut and the three of you stared at each other, shrugging at what to do with your newly found riches. Bela came out moments later and Dean spoke up. “So, ponying up 10 grand is easier for you than a simple thank you? You’re so damaged.” A smile crept across Bela’s face. “Takes one to know one.” _Touché._ “Goodbye, all.” The door closed behind Bela and you turned to the boys. “She has style. You have to give her that.” Dean nodded and looked at his stack. “I suppose.” Sam interjected. “You know, guys, we don’t know where this money’s been.”

“No…But I know where it’s going. Ha ha! Pack your crap.” You smiled and headed to pack the last item on your list. You walked into the bathroom…

“That bitch!” Sam and Dean ran to the doorway, staring at you with wide eyes. You turned to them, fire burning in your belly. “Thieving skank stole my bra!” Sam turned his head to stifle his laugh while Dean gave a full-hearted “HA!”

 

THIS WAS NOT OVER…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alas we have come to finish Red Sky At Morning. I hope y'all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. However, fear not, as Fresh Blood has been written and sent back with edits, all I have to do is apply them. See you soon lovelies! <3 xoxo-JC


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